


Saccharine

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, PWP without Porn, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 11:38:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11896968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Axel brings Demyx an ice cream. They’re both winners.





	Saccharine

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fair warning that I’m still playing through the KH series so don’t know all its lore yet. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The second Axel’s back, Demyx is on him—not literally, but at least looking up from the couch, grinning wide, and asking with full excitement, “Did you bring me one?” He even stops tuning his sitar, which means he must _really_ care. More often than not, he won’t even look at the people that chat with him while he’s busy with that thing. For Axel, he’s all ears. 

It’s weird to think that he’s _no_ heart, because he spills emotion over at something so insignificant as this. Maybe that’s why Axel likes him in spite of everything. Maybe it’s why Axel bothered to waste his ‘winner’ stick on this, even though he could’ve saved it for Roxas. He was going to. But then Demyx came at him with that big puppy smile, and Axel felt his chest clench.

He admits, “Yeah, yeah.” 

He thrusts it forward as he steps out of the dark corridor, careful to hold it high above his gloves—he took too long eating his own with Roxas and Xion, and this one’s threatening to melt. Demyx holds out greedy hands as Axel brings it to him. Across the room, Xaldin snorts derisively. The lounge is otherwise empty. Axel’s glad of it; he wouldn’t have wanted to show up in front of Saïx with treats. He gets enough leeway as it is, more than Saïx wants to give him. And Demyx is the _last_ person who deserved a reward.

But Demyx looks so happy as he plucks it out of Axel’s fingers. His eyes aren’t as blue as Roxas’, but they’re bright and vivid and _adoring_ enough to make it worth Axel’s while. Besides, Axel’s probably the second weirdest of their number—excluding the obvious last two. The outsiders have to stick together. And sometimes Demyx will play him a song that almost makes him _feel_ : that’s worth something. 

He settles down onto the other side of the couch as Demyx lounges back. With a snap of his long fingers, the sitar’s gone. Demyx relaxes into the cushions without it, even lifting his ankles to cross atop the coffee table. He wouldn’t do that if Saïx were around. 

But there’s no superior to scold him, so Demyx stretches his free arm around the back of the couch and brings the other to his mouth. Axel doesn’t know why he’s staying. Then the white tip of the sea-salt ice cream hits Demyx’s pink tongue, and Axel remembers. 

Sharing sticky-sweet ice cream with Roxas and Xion is something fun, pleasant, fluffy and good—but this is a different kind of good entirely. Demyx doesn’t have their childish grace, but his own, more _mature_ kind, and Axel is drawn to the arch of his throat as he opens wide to run his tongue flat up the side. He shivers deliciously at the cold press of it, but he moans a second later when he draws that sugar-laden tongue back into his mouth. His eyes flutter closed as he sucks it off, swallowing already, before he returns for another broad lick. Axel watches Demyx lap his way down to the base, wetting it all, making his own lips glisten, and the little salty granules cling to his mouth. His lips are made redder by it. He puts them to work, suckling at little patches around the Popsicle-shaped dessert.

Eventually, he makes his way back to the top, and then he opens up, only to descend over it, and Axel’s mind spirals right down into _other things_. He tries to memorize the look of Demyx’s shining lips stretched wide, impaled and happily sucking away. Then Demyx makes it impossibly worse: he starts to piston the ice cream into his mouth, even corkscrewing the stick so the white cream squishes and melts against the corners of his lips. He’s a menace.

He makes the lewdest noises possible, ones that have no right being purred around ice cream. He does it anyway. He’s always been too vocal. He moans as he sucks and mewls as he licks, fucking his own face on Axel’s favourite treat. Axel’s pants feel tighter than usual. He wishes he’d made Demyx follow him back to his quarters for it.

And he hopes Roxas and Xion don’t show up in the lounge, or they’ll never eat ice cream with him again. Demyx will spoil it for all of them. Axel knows it’s already half-ruined for him—he’ll never see their traditional treat quite the same way again. 

In the meantime, it seems worth it. He _stares_ as Demyx ploughs through it all, melting it faster than need be by the sheer vigor of his hand and mouth. It disappears under his expert tongue, until finally, there’s nothing left but a sticky string of white that falls from the stick to Demyx’s bottom lip. He licks even that away, then thrusts the stick almost entirely into his mouth to make sure. When he pulls it clean, another ‘winner’ message is written clear across it.

Demyx lets out a final pleasured groan, something akin to a particularly satisfying orgasm. Then he eyes the stick properly and brightens anew, turning to ask, “Hey, look at that! What’d I win?” 

He doesn’t ask why Axel’s still there. Axel’s numb as he thinks of what to say. He has to weigh the risk in his mind, while his cock pulses in its confines and presses for a chance. Finally, Axel suggests, “Why don’t I tell you in my room?”

Demyx’s grin twitches at once side. He chirps, “Sure, man,” in such a way that it’s impossible to tell if he catches Axel’s meaning or not. 

He stands up first, then follows Axel back into the depths of their castle, where Demyx gets his prize.


End file.
